


if we could restart everything

by orphan_account



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Spirits, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood and Injury, Exes, Gen, M/M, Past Relationship(s), basically: yokai or ayakashi, technically it's set in old japan so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 18:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20457893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You could seek refuge there.” Sakuma says. “Though you might not like it.”“Is there nowhere else?” Fudou asks.Sakuma just gives him a mildly exasperated look. “He’s the nicest one around here.” he replies, and that must say a lot about the other ayakashi ifhe’smeant to be the best one here.For theina11 writing exchange.





	if we could restart everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarySeph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarySeph/gifts).

> for the ina11 writing exchange! dedicated to maryseph, who requested for the og cast as yokai ... i did not exactly follow that route (sorry! i couldn't rack my brain for anything plot-worthy if the ensemble was so big) but you did seem to like kdfd when i checked out your tumblr, so i decided to go with that. this is also, er, pretty rushed, since i may have accidentally forgot the deadline of the fic, but i hope you can enjoy it regardless.

The 11th District used to be known as one of the few places where no spirits resided, due to a shrine protecting the entire area from both good and evil supernatural creatures. That all changed a decade ago, when the structure was destroyed by a calamity no one could explain even until now. For a while, rumors had circulated that it was caused by the yokai themselves, in order for them to get into the prefecture that was out of their reach for so long, but it died down shortly, because it turned out that even they avoided going to the 11th District. At most, they’d simply pass by, because it was nearly impossible to stay long. There was something about the atmosphere there, they would say, that made them feel like they weren’t welcome, and it would show. 

Though Fudou isn’t particularly active in their community, he does know enough that he could probably count the number of spirits who actually reside inside the 11th District with one hand, regardless of the area’s infamy, and he likes none of them, though it isn’t enough to stop him from going. He’s never been bothered by gossip in the first place — gossip is made by the mischievous, after all, and causing that is in his blood, second instinct, as a fox demon — but there’s always a sliver of truth to what others say, so he’s cautious as he travels towards the very place that so many of his kind avoid. 

Besides, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s desperate. With the current state he’s in, he can only keep going so far.

“It’s past midnight; you don’t have to move so cautiously.” a voice suddenly says. Fudou glances up and sees Sakuma, perched at the edge of the rooftop of the house across, crouched like a bird despite how he’s in his human form. It looks ridiculous, but he’s probably doing it because the other is in his human form as well. Fudou can’t help but straighten up at the familiar sight of the spirit he hadn’t seen in years, despite how it hurts to do so and how he still can’t help but lean on the wall for support. Sakuma’s one eye — he lost the other one to a greedy daimyo who was interested in the yatagarasu, and that’s the other distinct feature about Sakuma besides his three legs — trails down to the way Fudou’s hand grips at the left side of his abdomen. Fudou doesn’t miss the movement, but it’s not like he’s willing to retract his hold. That’ll only make things worse. 

Sakuma must take Fudou’s silence as reluctance to believe his words, because he adds, “The humans are asleep. I would know.”

“Would you?” Fudou can’t help but retort. “Thought you stopped staying in places for too long ever since Kageyama.”

“Whatever.” says Sakuma flippantly, before eyeing Fudou’s wound once more. “That, I don’t want to know.”

“Good, because there’s no way in hell I’m telling.”

“—but out of all places out there, this one’s the worst one to stumble into.” Sakuma tilts his head. “Then again, you seem to have been wandering around for a while. It’s a wonder that no human has spotted you yet.”

“What can I say? I’m quite nimble.” Fudou says. Sakuma scoffs. “If this is the worst, then why are you here?”

“For a visit.” Sakuma shrugs. “It’s quite a nice place, actually. Humans aside.” 

Fudou still hasn’t felt that unwelcomed vibe that most spirits claimed to have felt in the 11th District, but then again, he isn’t really concentrating on anything but the conversation he’s having with Sakuma to distract him from the pain. “Right.” he bites out. “Well, I’m only here to pass by, so if you’re done,” Fudou resumes moving. “I’ll be off.”

Except when he takes another step forward, he can’t hide his wince at the sharp pain that shoots up his body. A bit more blood gushes out from the side of his stomach and spills past his hand, and it occurs to him, just then, that his wound might be a lot deeper than he thought. He must look like a pathetic sight to see, but Fudou grits his teeth anyway and tries to suppress the pained sound that threatens to escape him. 

Sakuma drops down to the ground beside him and walks over. “There’s a temple up ahead,” he says, glancing towards the direction of the 11th District’s tallest infrastructure. A tower, but Fudou doesn’t know for what. “You could seek refuge there, though you might not like it.”

Despite how Sakuma’s barely revealing anything, Fudou is smart enough to have a good hunch. “Is there nowhere else?” he asks. 

Sakuma just gives him a mildly exasperated look. “He’s the nicest one around here.” he replies, and that must say a lot about the other ayakashi if _ he’s _meant to be the best one here. “So unless you want to drown in your own blood because your healing factor isn’t kicking in anymore, then no. At the rate you’re going, it’ll be daybreak by the time you get to leave the 11th District, and the humans will come find you.”

Fudou grimaces at the thought, because that’s the last thing he wants to do, even if he already is in human form. It’d be a lot easier to keep up the act if he wasn’t injured, because despite how his blood is red, it has a smell distinctly different from humans, and they’d recognize him to be a spirit, even though they have a belief that yokai don’t even bleed— that the moment you attack one, they’ll disperse like fog and disappear for good, just like that. It’s annoying, how perceptive the residents of this area are. “Fuck.” 

“It’s a good thing we met, Fudou.” Sakuma tells him. “It would be a waste to see you die.”

“Thanks.” he replies dryly. Sakuma nods and slowly reverts back into his original form. Fudou watches the transformation and his eyes follow Sakuma as he flies away, before he turns to the tower. “The spirit of guidance, huh.” he muses to himself, letting him think of the yatagarasu for a few more seconds before starting to walk. 

Much to his chagrin, he gets to his destination a lot later than he wanted to. It’s still evening, however, but the walk felt like forever, and Fudou regrets not asking Sakuma for any shortcuts, or even if he could carry him there. 

But when he finally reaches the entrance of the temple, the first thing he wants to do is go back. Maybe he’s near the district’s exit or something. All he knows is that he already wants to leave. It was out of desperation and cluelessness that led him here, but without Sakuma’s presence, his head is a lot clearer, and he’s gotten used to the pain from his side that he can make room for enough pride to turn away. 

In the hindsight, Fudou probably shouldn’t have spoken so soon. The moment he moves his body to start walking away almost as quickly as he came — meaning not fast at all, despite how he wants to be — his side immediately throbs like a warning. Fudou needs to rest, if not get patched up immediately. And if he leaves, he gets neither of those. 

Fudou grimly wonders if not listening will get him killed. 

Before he can make another decision, a familiar, low voice comes in from behind. “How long are you going to keep standing there?”

Fudou slowly turns. Kidou looks the same as always, tied dreadlocks and youthful features an exact imitation of what it was years ago. His unnatural red eyes are bright against the moonlight, and Fudou wonders how pathetic he must look to the other— practically a wounded animal, here because of his own weakness. 

“Not long.” Fudou finally answers, meeting Kidou’s gaze because he refuses to back down. He has to look up, because Kidou is at the top of the stairwell that leads to the temple and Fudou is at the bottom, right in front of the torii gate entrance, and pretends like it doesn’t bother him. Kidou always did say he got worked over the smallest of things, and Fudou didn’t want to prove him right. “If you really wanted me to get out, you would’ve told me when I was halfway through here.”

Kidou doesn’t say anything, only slightly twitches. It’s not a denial. Kidou probably knew Fudou was coming here the moment Sakuma departed. One of the few perks of being a bird, Fudou would like to think, but it’s really just in Kidou’s nature, to always watch over things, to always know what’s going to happen. Fudou would be lying if he said he wasn’t the same, but he gets his information from underground, in land, where he thrives the most. Kidou lives in the higher places, in the air, fitting for his status and personality. 

For a while, neither of them says anything. Then Kidou speaks up. “It’s cold. I’m heading up.”

As Kidou walks away, Fudou realizes that he’s been given an unsaid invitation inside. It makes his desire to leave wane slightly, but what really propels him to go despite how he knows— he can feel it in his bones, beyond the aching pain coming from his abdomen and the lightheadedness he’s been trying to fight off from the blood loss, that this night probably isn’t going to end well. Not that it’s been starting out great for him in the first place — is the thought that refusing might seem like he’s afraid, running away like a coward. And Fudou is many things, but he isn’t that. 

It’s a small temple at first glance, but when Fudou crosses the threshold after climbing up the hill, the inside turns out to be a lot larger than it looks. An illusion, likely possible because of the paper seals that surround the area. Behind the structure is the tower Sakuma had been talking about, which Fudou is confident has a walkway attached so Kidou can go there as often and as easily as he wished. 

Because Fudou has never stepped inside the 11th District before, this is his first time in Kidou’s house. Fudou settles down on the futon mat for the dining area and examines his surroundings as Kidou flits around. There isn’t much to see, but Fudou finds himself captivated with the tiniest of things anyway— the scratched up wood, the black feathers that are scattered around the room, the small cracks lining the walls. It looks almost exactly like what Kidou’s old temple looked like before, a long time ago. 

Kidou returns with tissues, bandages, and paper seals with unfamiliar characters Fudou can’t make out. 

It must say a lot about how exhausted Fudou is that he doesn’t protest when Kidou pulls off his yukata so he can treat the wound. After cleaning away the blood so he can get a look at the injury a lot more clearly, Kidou gets the paper seals and makes a few hand gestures, causing them to glow and surround themselves around Fudou. They both watch as the wound begins to heal itself, almost like the seals are utilizing the regenerative abilities of Fudou that he thought had given up on repairing the damage because it was just too much. 

“These are divination paper seals.” Fudou points out quietly. “Where’d a demon like you get access to those?”

“I know some people.” is all Kidou says in reply. He doesn’t give Fudou anything more than that. Fair enough, Fudou guesses. He knows enough about these kinds of things though. Knows that they’re hard to come across and aren’t often made, what more _ given _. Kidou probably had to pull some strings to get them. Or someone gifted them to him. Fudou wouldn’t put that later possibility past him. Kidou is a special figure here in the 11th District, despite how the place is notoriously known for being incredibly anti-ayakashi. There will always be a few believers, and they will always hold some kind of special power. Fudou wouldn’t even put it past him to somehow be part of why outside ayakashi actively avoid this place. Protector magic, or something. Fudou wouldn’t know. 

“You’re weird, you know.” Fudou says at last. 

Kidou looks up to him. “You’re weird too.” he says back. “For coming here.”

Fudou shrugs. Kidou gazes down at the tissues that are dried with blood. “Did they cause this?”

“Your people? No, but given their reputation, they probably would’ve if they knew I was here.” Fudou answers. They say that if you absolutely need to go to the 11th District for whatever reason, it’s best to do it either late at night or in the early day, when most are still asleep. The humans here are unlike the ones in other areas, who either respect or fear ayakashi. They’re driven by hate, and they like to show it. Fudou will never know the origin to it, because it’s a fact that’s almost as old as time. 

He doesn’t know how the spirits that actually do live here manage to maintain their cover, but Kidou’s scent is more human than it ever was before, so Fudou guesses it must be that. He must’ve been spending more time in this form rather than his true one in order to start smelling like this, just to properly blend in, and Fudou can’t help but wince at the thought, because he’s never particularly liked turning into a human, even if he needs to, like now, for the sake of maintaining his secret. 

“I got sidetracked by something while I was passing by, and a few hunters who were in area nicked me while I wasn’t looking. I thought it’d heal by itself if I went to hide within the forest, but by the time nightfall was arriving, it wasn’t, so I went to the closest town.” Which just happened to be this. “I didn’t mean to come here.”

Kidou doesn’t even blink at the latter part. “It isn’t like you to get caught in something like that.”

He has a point. Fudou is known for purposely bringing trouble when he wants to, but this one was unintentional. There’s a reason why ayakashi are discouraged to travel in their real form during the day, or when they’re close to areas or in pathways that humans frequent. Fudou is a wanderer by heart, unable to stay in one place the way many spirits are, so he’s almost always in his fox form unless he wants to stop by a certain district or town and wants to explore it a bit. This was a lack of proper judgement on his part. He slipped up and forgot, so of course the humans didn’t hesitate to take advantage of that. 

“You’d know, wouldn’t you.” is Fudou’s only reply to that. 

“What did you get distracted by?”

Fudou doesn’t want to say it’s because he got lost in his musings, looking to the direction of the 11th District with old memories in mind. He was just passing by, not intending to step a foot into the area, but he faltered at the last second and allowed a second of sentimentality. It wasn’t worth it, he thought, because he ended up placing his guard down and got shot by a few arrows.

“It doesn’t matter.” Fudou says, not about to tell him. 

Kidou raises an eyebrow, but otherwise doesn’t comment on it. 

As the last of his wound fixes itself, his side eventually looking normal after the blood has been wiped away by a fresh cloth Kidou produces and tenderly uses, Fudou starts to feel drowsy, the events of today finally catching up to him. An effect of the speed healing, he supposes, because that always takes more stamina than wanted. It's why he doesn't complain when Kidou gently touches him and gives him a knowing, familiar smile. 

Really, Fudou would flip him off, but he's already losing conscious. 

When he comes to, Kidou is no longer there. For a moment, Fudou panics, thinks to himself, _ the bastard left me again _, before he abruptly calms down and realizes the stupidity of his concern and anxiety. 

Since Fudou is fully healed and rested, his senses are working a lot better, so his keen nose can easily sniff out Kidou’s scent, one that lingers everywhere in the temple and drifts to the backdoor. The latter one is much more fresh, and Fudou guesses that Kidou must’ve went out. 

He follows the smell all the way up to the tower, which, sure enough, is connected to the temple through a pathway that leads up to a stairwell. It’s a long trek up, but Fudou does it with minimal grumbling until he’s climbed up what he thinks to be three floors and eventually spots the familiar puff of Kidou’s odd hair at the end of it. 

It’s not a surprise for Fudou to find Kidou here. He once told him how he felt more confident in himself when he was anywhere close to the sky. Fudou thought it was a testament of his god complex, but it might just be a thing of Kidou’s kind. Fudou wouldn’t know, even after all the years that have passed. Kidou is still the only tengu he knows. 

It’s still dark, but it doesn’t tell much about how long Fudou’s been out. A few hours, an entire day? Fudou doesn’t know. He quietly walks over to Kidou’s side and looks to the same view the other seems to be admiring, but all he sees are identical infrastructure, the emptiness of the streets. If he squints hard enough, he can probably see the end of the 11th District, but he doesn’t feel like making the effort. 

“Do you remember the last time we did this?” Kidou suddenly asks him. 

Years ago in the Iyo Province. The sky was a bright blue and they stood on a hill that overlooked a riverbank. There had been kids playing along the water, but no one paid any mind to a bird and fox lounging under the shade of a tree, idly talking about a nice dango shop stationed along the roads that Fudou wanted Kidou to try out sometime. 

Fudou blinks and the memory fades. “Since when did you care about looking back at the past?” he asks back instead of answering. 

Kidou simply shrugs. “Maybe seeing you makes me feel nostalgic.”

Fudou feels uncomfortable at the words, at the implications of them, because it’s been years, but he hasn’t forgotten what happened. Getting mad isn’t something he’s in the mood for though, despite how he used to have all these dreams as to how he’d confront Kidou, when he’d finally get to see him again. That desire waned as time went by, and though he liked to think he wasn’t necessarily avoiding Kidou — only cowards did that, after all, and Kidou _ did _disappear off the face of the world for a long time — he never sought him out either, never took initiative to try and see him again. 

Why should he, when Kidou was the one who left? 

“You can blame Sakuma for that.” is all Fudou says to that. 

Kidou hums. He looks thoughtful, and Fudou is slightly caught off guard by the fact that he remembers how to tell what Kidou’s feeling or doing from just a glance. 

"Fudou," Kidou starts, just as Fudou is about to turn away. Fudou has an inkling of what Kidou is about to say, but in the end, nothing comes out, and the older sighs. 

"What now?" Fudou huffs. "Not gonna ever explain to me why you left?"

"Do you even want to know?"

The thing is, he doesn't. Not anymore. It's not like he cares, but it's not like he doesn't either. It's complicated, in Fudou's eyes, with no simple answer. But he hasn't seen Kidou in what feels like forever, and though the memories and banter feel the same as ever, it doesn't ache. Fudou feels like he's living a dream, and he doesn't want to break it with something so real like the truth. 

“It doesn’t matter.” he says quietly, and it’s true. “It’s not going to change anything, isn’t it?” 

Kidou doesn’t answer, which already tells Fudou enough. It suddenly feels awkward; Fudou wonders if he’s overstayed his welcome, if he should leave. 

But before that—

“Why’d you do it?”

“Why did I do what?” asks Kidou. 

“Help me.” Fudou says. 

Kidou doesn’t say anything at first. Then, “Why not?”

He doesn’t know what he expected, really. Kidou was never really one to give a straight answer. Fudou is a kitsune, a kind known for stirring up mischief, but Kidou, with all his wisdom and maturity, could never bring himself to be straightforward. That inability in itself caused more arguments and misunderstandings than needed, trouble in its own right and form, but Fudou feels resigned, because at least that part about Kidou hasn’t changed. 

“You’re insufferable.” Fudou comments. 

Kidou smiles slightly. “I won’t ask for any thanks.” he tells him. Fudou opens his mouth, about to respond that he didn’t come here to say thanks, when Kidou continues. “But stay?”

Fudou freezes. Kidou said that once, a long time ago, when they were sitting by the footsteps of his temple as the sun was setting back in Iyo. Fudou remembers that his anger was so strong it rang through his ears, blocked hearing the desperation in Kidou’s voice and stopped him from caring. Sakuma always did say Fudou’s emotions were his own unbecoming, because for a demon fox always in motion, the concept of just pausing for one moment to see the bigger picture, to see past whatever met the eye, had never been his thing. 

Kidou may have been the one who left, but it wasn’t like Fudou was willing to stay around either. It’s just not in his nature to do so, just as it’s not in Kidou’s to necessarily explain himself. Isn’t that what makes it Fudou’s fault as much as Kidou’s? Maybe that’s why they didn’t last. Maybe that’s why they were never meant to. Fudou will never really know, because it’s already happened, and he doesn’t want to talk about the past. Kidou is here, after all, in the present, and despite the front Fudou puts, he knows he’s let go of his resentment a long time ago. 

“Maybe.” Fudou says, turning to him. Kidou’s smile stays, and Fudou thinks that he doesn’t want to talk about the past either. 

After a while, the sunlight starts to creep up, engulfing the horizon in a beautiful orange hue. The view is magnificent, but Kidou and Fudou are only looking at each other, and they don’t say a word.

**Author's Note:**

> i left the reason they broke up to be unknown and the ending generally open-ended so that it's open to interpretation and possibilities, but my original intention was that kidou left because of haruna, but i felt like if i delved into that, this story would turn out a lot longer, and i don't have the time anymore to work it out, so.
> 
> that being said, here are some notes about the characters in case you haven't figured it out yet from the story:
> 
>   * FUDOU as the KITSUNE — ‘field foxes’, also called nogitsune; tend to be mischievous or even malicious; FUDOU constantly travels, usually causing mischief wherever he goes 
>   * KIDOU as the TENGU — vigilant protectors of certain forests; Kidou is a special tengu that protects the 11th District, even though the residents hate spirits like him; he stopped protecting the forest he was initially in charge of due to unknown reasons and moved to the 11th District 
>   * SAKUMA as the YATAGARASU — a three-legged crow-god, a symbol of guidance; a mark of rebirth and rejuvenation; KIDOU’s close friend and FUDOU’s sort of friend 
>   * Iyo Province is what is now known as Ehime, where Raimon had the match against Shin Teikoku, and what I dubbed as where Fudou and Kidou stayed back when they were together 
>   * The 11th District doesn’t actually exist, but is based on Inazuma Town 
> 
> anyways, thank you for reading! kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! hmu on [tumblr](https://softpunks.tumblr.com/) or smth if you wanna chat!


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